


Ten Things Jon Hates About Damian

by ArmedWithAStaringFly



Category: DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, a little shippy too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 04:26:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArmedWithAStaringFly/pseuds/ArmedWithAStaringFly
Summary: Jonathan Kent hates Damian Wayne. In fact, he has a carefully enumerated list of reasons to hate Damian Wayne.





	Ten Things Jon Hates About Damian

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when:  
> 1\. I am a huge dork  
> 2\. I, in my endless obsession with character playlists, make a Super Sons playlist on Spotify  
> 3\. I fill it largely with songs that were big when I was around Jon and Damian's ages, including 7 Things by Miley Cyrus
> 
> I kept the fic mostly friendship (even though I feel like this kind of framing device is kind of...inherently shippy, and it was also somewhat inspired by a DEFINITELY shippy fic from a Fandom of My Dark Past), but you could read pre-romance into it if you like.

**1\. He’s vain**

Jon has not met anyone who thinks as highly of himself as Damian Wayne. 

If you asked him, he was the smartest, most skilled, most dignified person you could ever have the privilege to work with. His plans were flawless. His intuition full-proof. No matter if you were older like his brothers. No matter if you had more powers like Jon. No matter whether you had (usually ignored) authority over him, like Alfred or Bruce. Whether he was in his Robin costume or in a tux at one of his father’s parties, he strutted into rooms like he owned the place. 

If he didn’t actually have a reason to assert his superiority, “I’m the son of Batman” would suffice. 

It was dang annoying, especially when they were on a late night mission that  _Damian_  dragged him into, when more often than not Jon would be perfectly happy to stay out of it. “Shut up, Superboy, and  _listen_  to me. I am by far more competent of the two of us, though that isn’t saying  _much_.”

Jon is not a naturally vindictive person. But one thing Damian is really good at, is bringing that side out of him. And before he knows it, he’s making some low blows at Damian’s height and father just to knock him down a peg.  

**2\. He toys with everyone, even his friends**

Everyone, from the Titans to Maya (though she can get the best of him just the same), have stories of Damian’s little mind games. Dick once joked that it was how Damian showed affection before he was ready to show affection, but Jon wasn’t so sure. 

The worst part is that Jon full well knows he does it, and he still gets played. He knew that Damian got him to come out with him that first night by playing at his insecurities about being Superboy. He knows that Damian is aware of how much he secretly craves his approval. He knows how often Damian shamelessly lies. He knows that Damian delights in waving Titans membership over his head like a carrot, making empty promises to get Jon to do what he wants. 

“Whoa whoa, you  _do_  want to be a Titan someday, right? Say, we have a mission in a few days and I was thinking that I  _could_  use some extra muscle…we’ll see…”

“You need to stop falling for it,” Maya laughed once. “he does it because it works.”

That was easier said than done. 

**3\. It’s weirdly impossible to say no to him**

“Get up, we’re going out.”

Jon glares at him from under the covers, his eyes almost growing hot with heat vision. “No. It’s late. I have school tomorrow.”

Damian yawns. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard it all before. Now, there has recently been a break in at the Navy labs near the river…”

Before long Jon finds himself on a rooftop in his Superboy hoodie and jeans, barely knowing how he got there. 

**4\. He never admits when he’s wrong.**

Damian gave Jon a lot of trouble before he learned to fly. 

“I can’t believe you threw me off a building!  _Again!_ ” Jon snapped as he successfully fumbled his way up back up from the ledge he had caught himself on.

“You’d think after the first time, you’d be more prepared for it,” Damian retorted, sending him a sly look that Jon had a distinct urge to punch off his face. “Did you at least catch it?”

With a sigh, Jon produced the chip that had accidentally been kicked off the roof during the fight. Damian stepped over one of the unconscious bodies of their assailants to take it and shove it in his tablet. For a moment, his face faltered. In a second, though, he quickly tried to recover his customary smugness. “Useless, like I expected.” Jon, who was brushing off his jeans, froze. His fists clenched and he gritted his teeth.

“You sent me over the ledge for something you  _assumed was useless_?”

“I sent you over the wall to remind you to stay on your toes. You got distracted. Also, it distracted these guys,” he motioned to the slumped black-clad men surrounding them, “enough for me to execute my plans.”

“I could have _died_!” Jon tugged at his hair in frustration, nearly ripping it out. “AGAIN!”

Damian sighed. “You think I don’t know perfectly well when your invulnerability is functioning?  By your age I had been thrown off a cliff  _without_ being able to coast on that, you know.”

That’s another thing that annoyed Jon to no end. No matter what he does, he can always get out of it by bringing up his childhood. At first Jon had always accused him of lying with all the tall tales of horrific training, but though Damian lied often, his brothers assured him that it wasn’t the case this time. Damian’s life was really like that.

But Jon wasn’t interested in granting sympathy in that moment. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the other boy, who was doing his best to nonchalantly study his tablet. 

“You didn’t know the thing was useless, did you?”

Damian had a great poker face…for most people. But not Jon. He saw that  _slight_ twitch of the lip and tensed shoulders. 

“Don’t be absurd.”

Jon huffed and finished brushing off his clothes. “Well next time, let me  _in_  on the plan or I’m out. Actually, I might just be out right now!”

“ _Tt._ ” Damian knew that was a lie. Especially when he, a little more quietly, congratulated Jon on climbing up so fast.

**5\. But he’s right way too often**

“That can’t possibly be the thief.”

“Unlike you, I am not so naive to be swayed by appearances. Didn’t Mommy and Daddy ever teach you that it’s the inside that counts?”

Jon cocked his head and studied the freckle-faced, frizzy-red-haired little girl who sat on the bench below them swinging her legs. “Are you sure the evidence points to her? She seems pretty…little to have broken into Metropolis’ most secure military lab.”

“You seem pretty little to be able to lift a car over your head, but here you are.” Damian sighed impatiently, “Look at her body language. She’s swinging her legs, but tensely. As if she’s going out of her way to seem relaxed. She had soot on her dress, the same kind of soot we found in the lab–”

“That could be  _anything_ –”

“ _And_  she hasn’t blinked in three minutes.”

Jon paused. He looked her way, and indeed her eyes were wide open, come to mention it. “…Oh.”

Suddenly, the little girl looked his way. He barely had time to shield his face before she lunged at them with razor sharp teeth, unblinking eyes lighting up an unearthly neon blue. 

**6\. He’s too rich**

Jon gulped thickly as the limo pulled over on the side of the road. 

“Greetings, Master Jon,” Alfred said as he exited the drivers side, walking down towards him to open the door. 

“Uh, h-hey Mr. Pennyworth,” Jon mumbled, and the man chuckled gently. 

“Alfred is fine to you, son.” 

Jon stepped into the car. The seats were pristine, smooth black leather, with a set of sparkling crystal glasses in the door that Jon felt like he couldn’t even touch without breaking. The ceiling was illuminated by tiny golden lights, giving the reddish interior a velvety glow. Jon slowly sat down, feeling instantly silly with his ripped jeans and worn backpack. He adjusted his glasses self-consciously. The whole thing smelled like money. 

“Thank you, Pennyworth,” said Damian beside him. Damian looked right at home in this environment, lounging on the other side of the backseat. He wasn’t even dressed that fancily–just a button down and dark jeans–but somehow he still seemed to exude “I have more cash than you’ll ever see” through just his body language. 

And darn if he didn’t know it too.

“So sorry,” he said coolly, sending a still-wide-eyed Jon a smug look from the corner of his eye, “that we had to bring the small limousine. Father has the other one.”

**7\. He doesn’t express affection like a normal person**

If Jon had written this list a year ago, he’d probably have included “it’s nearly impossible to tell what he’s really thinking.” But much to Damian’s dismay, that has changed. Jon can read Damian better than nearly anyone, except maybe Dick. Or Alfred. Or Maya. Alright, maybe not  _anyone_ , but pretty dang well. That’s a little thing that the Kent boy is rather proud of, all things considered. Anything that embarrasses the smug sidekick he works with. 

If he kidnaps you or drafts you into a mission, he wants to make friends but doesn’t know how to just ask. 

“Fine! Just go! I didn’t really want you here anyway, you just slow me down!” is never what he really means. 

“Teaching you” is code for “hanging out” (though Jon’s pretty tired of this one, to tell the truth).  

And if you’re on a mission, there’s a certain way that he may call you an idiot when you endanger yourself. That means you scared him, and he’s relieved that you’re okay.

He may grumble about the indignity of eating your mom’s apple pie, but he always finishes his slice. 

And finally, “I suppose it is advisable for us to bury the hatchet and share the blame” is his special way of saying “I’m sorry.” 

It may take some practice to translate. But Jon has learned well. How could be not, throughout their regular spats ( _not_ , however, “bickering like an old married couple” as Beast Boy  _horribly_  described it. Thankfully Damian wasted no time in payback for that little comment)? And amazingly enough, eventually Jon started hearing the occasional word of  _praise_  every now and then. It apparently doesn’t kill Damian to say “You’ve improved Jon, good job” instead of “I suppose that wasn’t wholly incompetent.”  It isn’t often, but it’s there. And after Jon gave his absolute all to be the best superhero he could possibly be, going along with Damian’s tricks and tests, it’s nice to work with a guy who’ll openly acknowledge it.

Still, when things get really serious, and Jon’s just about at his limit, more than once has Damian been the one to keep him together. He says that he cares by running to you the instant you get in trouble, or through words like “it wasn’t your fault” and “I’m going to keep you safe.” Still not outright, but perfectly clear. 

And in the end, the way Damian defensively scoffs and sputters when Jon teases him by responding to his insults with a genuine “Yeah, you’re one of my best friends too,” is almost worth it. 

**8\. He’s painfully insecure**

One time, Jon’s phone broke when he dropped it in a puddle on the way home from school. 

His mother tutted at him, but she ordered a new one, telling him she’d rather he have a way to call home when walking around the city than not. Jon groaned, and told his friends that they couldn’t text him for a couple days. All except one. Jon had no way to contact Gotham or San Francisco, but he figured that Damian could take a few days without contact, given how much he complains anyway.

Boy, was he wrong. 

“AAAAH!” Jon fell away from his window with a hard thud. He winced at the cracking sound from the floors, but he didn’t see any damage when he looked. “What are you  _doing_  here?”

Damian continued to scowl from his place hanging by a grappling hook on the other side of the glass. “Me?  _You_ have not been picking up your phone or answering my texts–”

Jon closed his eyes in frustration. “Dude, it’s only been like two days.” 

“–but I clearly see on the news that you are quite alive, well, and working as Superboy. So you better have a good excuse for not responding to my messages of utmost importance.”

Jon blinked, then huffed. “Has no one ever been busy in your life?”

Damian’s glare only darkened. “And what, praytell, are you so busy with? You practically beg to join my team, and then you cannot be bothered to keep up with my communications? If you ever want to be a Titan, you should show more diligence–”

“UGH!” Jon rolled his eyes and glared into the darkness of the room. He didn’t even want to tell Damian what it was in that moment. Damian was just being difficult, and in any case, he knew the Teen Titans was a low blow. And, of course, this was not really about them at all. “I can’t believe you’re waving your stupid team in my face again, just because your stupid feelings got hurt that I don’t want to hang on your every call.”

Damian’s face went blank for a moment. Then he went off again, rattling something about how this has nothing to do with  _feelings_  and Jon should stop thinking so  _highly_  of himself and…but the bite of it was off kilter, it’s foundation cracked. Jon almost wanted to laugh in that small victory. But then his face fell. Because playing this game was only fun in the short term. 

“My phone is broken.” Jon grumbled, getting up and crossing his arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer. I’ll get a new one soon.”

Damian stopped again. He swung gently back and forth from his grappling hook wire, in a moment of contemplation. “I’ll talk to Father about getting us separate communicators. You never know when an emergency might happen, and there’s always a  _chance_ that I might need your assistance.” 

Jon huffed, but opened the window to let Damian crawl in. “Sure, whatever. Come on, Mom is ordering chicken parm tonight.”

**9\. He can get you to feel sorry for him when he doesn’t even want to**

“What do you mean only Alfred was at your thirteenth birthday!?”

Damian shrugged like he doesn’t care, but as previously explained–Jon knew better. 

“Some families understand that duty is more important than ritualistic celebrations.”

“But thirteen is like…” Jon swung his legs, slowly spinning in the swivel chair in the Batcave, “an  _important_  birthday! You’re a teenager and stuff.” 

“ _Really_? I didn’t realize,” Damian drawled, typing at impressive speed on his tablet as he leans against the wall in a display of nonchalance. “Besides, that was almost a full year ago. Even if I cared then, I should be over it now.”

He’s lying, of course. He kidnapped his team that year, for Pete’s sake. Suddenly, everything made sense.

“Do you think your dad and brothers will make it up for you this year?” Jon stuck out his foot to stop the chair on Batman’s massive console setup. Damian had previously told him to stop such childish, undignified behavior on his father’s most important monitoring station, but it was a habit already drilled into him–and even Damian Wayne has to give up on some things. 

Damian paused his typing for just a moment. Then continued. “I expect not. And again, I don’t need them to.”

“The Teen Titans will probably try to celebrate it if they know. Have you told them?”

“I haven’t felt the need.” 

Jon frowned. This was so wrong. Especially since, well, Damian was there for  _his_  past birthday. 

It was true. Jon spent most of his birthdays with his parents and maybe a few friends, running through the fields and chasing the animals. They ate cake and hotdogs from the grill as Jon opened gifts, normal stuff. But after they moved to Metropolis, his birthday was only a harsher reminder that all that was a thing of the past. His father was quick to try and remedy the situation. Damian showed up grumbling, but he showed up nonetheless. After some traditional birthday festivities, which of course Damian pretended not to enjoy, Superboy and Robin found themselves zipping competitively across the Metropolis rooftops, followed from just a safe enough distance by Superman. Jon had caught Damian cracking more than a few smiles. And as for him, it managed to be the best birthday he ever had, and being in Metropolis didn’t feel quite so scary. 

There is no way he wasn’t going to return the favor, no matter how much of a jerk this kid was, and no matter how much he tries to act like it doesn’t matter.  _No one_  should be left behind on their birthday. 

Darn it, he was going to have to put in a lot of effort into this, wasn’t he?

Ugh. 

Keeping a surprise party secret from Robin, Son of the World’s Greatest Detective, was the hardest thing Jon ever did. It took months of blood, sweat, and uncharacteristic threats, especially when you have someone as big-mouthed as Beast Boy in on it. More than once he wondered why he chose a friend this difficult to please. But when Damian opened the door to the Titans Tower like it was any other day, he was greeted by a team and a Superboy there to make it a little more particular. 

**10\. Jon still likes him way too much**

Damian Wayne can be incredibly nice on the rare occasions when he _wants_ to be. 

Jon thinks about this fact as he plays his Monk E Monsters system. To this day it still shocks him what Damian had done, after Dad had let it slip. And from what he could tell visiting Wayne Manor later on, Damian still hadn’t managed to get a console of his own–or he’d never really wanted one. Jon suspects it’s the latter. Damian was never the video gaming type, though he always got way too into it when he was over playing with Jon…

When Jon was practicing his powers or struggling on his homework, it was usually Damian’s sharp, condescending voice that he heard in his head to keep going, to not give up, to keep pushing even when you feel like stopping. At first he thought it was just spite, a motivation to prove that little jerk wrong. Maybe it was, in the beginning. But little by little, Jon realized that he  _wanted_  Damian to like him. He  _wanted_ Damian to think he was a good enough. Hewantedto be  _friends_  and not just partners. 

He didn’t like this realization, but he had to accept it. 

Damian confuses him, always has. But maybe that was also what made him, well, pretty cool. Sort of. He's snarky and stuck up and often downright mean, but when you were in a jam, he knows what to do. His praise is rare, but when you get it, it’s well-earned. He’s rude and harsh, but he can have a huge heart for someone’s who’s seen what he’s seen and done what he’s done. He doesn’t get close to people often, but when he does, he’ll have your back no matter what. And he knows so much about so many things, from superheroing to chemistry to history to martial arts. That's certainly no hidden depth; instead he'll be darn sure that you're aware of it, by listing off the "degrees I could have had" at the drop of a hat (hm, that's something that Jon needs to add to the list: "he's a massive know-it-all"). But it can also be pretty neat, sometimes. Once or twice Damian has gone off explaining some concept, like encryption or extraterrestrial geology or something. To Jon’s surprise, he found that he really enjoyed just sitting and listening to it. Even Damian noted, somewhat red in the face, that Jon hadn’t interrupted him (”Half of that wasn’t even useful now, so it was just a waste of time!”).

He didn’t understand how someone as smart as Damian could also be so stupid. 

But there was a lot of things that Jon didn’t understand about his friend. Probably always will be. And he guessed that that was okay. After all, they were a team now, no one could deny it.  _More_ than a team. 

And when another badguy had to report that he got taken in by a pair of kids, or Jon managed a new feat after Damian’s snarky encouragement/teasing, or he got to spend the night running through Metropolis with him without their dads breathing down their necks, and especially on those times that he actually managed to make Damian smile, or Damian let Jon hug him, or they stayed up late laughing and playing video games until they dozed off on the family couch, Jon knew he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

So yeah, there’s plenty of reasons to hate Damian, but unfortunately enough, there’s also plenty of reasons to really like him too. 


End file.
